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“I’m more worried about your blabbering mouth.”
Ben picks up a weight and starts to curl it roughly. “Be at Foxfire at nine tonight,” he says.
I grunt. Apparently, I’ve been dismissed.
“I’ll keep my blabbering mouth shut,” Ben cuts as I walk away.
I don’t turn around, instead I go to the cardio area to burn off some steam.
The Foxfire is dimly lit and smells of stale beer.
It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that only locals know about. Ben and I have been coming here for years. It’s a place I find to be more like home than anywhere in New York City. I haven’t been here since before the tour and I feel comforted by the muffled voices and the smack of pool cues hitting their targets.
These last few weeks I’ve struggled to stay away from drowning myself in poor decisions, which meant I kept out of bars. But this time it felt easier to call my therapist instead of falling down a depressive hole. Working out daily helped too and being near Ben. Even when he busted my balls.
One thing I still can’t wrap my head around is all the press. Every day I get calls from reporters for a “sound bite.” After having a small taste of fame, it makes me admire Birdie more for how she deals with it all. I understand why she mentioned being afraid of a relationship. It’s not something I can’t deal with, but it’s also not pleasant.
As I make my way to the back booths, my eyes tip up to the TVs on the wall. My heart stops beating for a moment when I see Birdie’s face. The first thing I notice is she’s dyed her hair back to black. It stuns me at first, then I’m struck with memories of the teenage girl I knew. The captions at the bottom of the screen mention the kidnapping and that her reps say, “She’s doing well and fully recovered.”
I’m glad, but the image of her tells a different story. Her eyes are sad, and her body is stiff. It makes me want to reach through the screen and hold her, kiss her lips, and tell her she’s safe.Shit.I may not be in her life but she’s sure as hell in mine.
The number of times I’ve wanted to call her and tell her how stupid I am for running away from the best thing in my life, the number of times I almost texted her to make sure she’s okay... I suppose I’m more stubborn than her, but I can’t bring myself to do anything about it. I’ve convinced myself that eventually she’ll get over the sadness and she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better than me. Someone less screwed up and more emotionally available when shit gets tough.
“Liam!” Wren’s friendly voice calls through the crowd. “Over here!’
My eyes find her in a corner booth smiling. Her red hair is piled on the top of her head and she’s wearing a little black dress that sparkles. She’s a little overdressed for this place, but she shines like the joyful beacon that she is. I smile wide at her.
“Hey lady!”
She jumps up and gives me a big hug. My gaze finds Ben and he tips his head in greeting.
“Got you a beer,” he says, pointing to the empty place next to Wren.
“Thanks.” I see that he’s still angry about our conversation at the gym. I can’t blame him. I haven’t been a good friend lately and Ben has been nothing but kind. That’s just who he is.
I take my place in the booth across from them and take a small sip, somewhat regretting my decision to join them.
“It’s nice to see you, Liam,” Wren smiles.
“It’s good to see you, too. It’s been a long time.”
“Well, I’m here now. Only for a couple of days though, then I have to get back.”
“How’s your trip been?”
“Amazing actually. Birdie sent a private plane for me. It was freaking wild!” she laughs.
My stomach flips. “She did? Wow.”
Wren cringes. “Sorry, I was told not to bring her up and there I go.”
I wave my hand. “It’s fine Wren, really.”
After a few heavy pauses, Ben shifts in his seat. “Look man, we brought you here to share something with you.”
At his serious tone I sit straighter. Ben looks like he’s about to give me news I won’t like. Alarm bells go off in my head. “Is Birdie okay?”
That catches a smirk from both Ben and Wren.
